


An Afternoon at the Tarlak Grounds

by RisalSoran



Series: Family is Everything [1]
Category: A Stitch in Time - Andrew J. Robinson, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Elim Garak as a child, Gen, Kardasi, Pre-Canon Cardassia, autistic elim garak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29784048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisalSoran/pseuds/RisalSoran
Summary: Tolan has much to do to prepare for an upcoming memorial service, but Mila needs someone to look after her son Elim while she is working at one of  Enabran Tain's dinners. Tolan, having accepted the role of “father” to his sister's child, agrees to look after him. Elim, on the other hand, is not so sure about the unexpected changes to his routine.
Relationships: Elim Garak & Mila Garak, Tolan Garak & Elim Garak, Tolan Garak & Mila Garak
Series: Family is Everything [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189172
Comments: 11
Kudos: 10





	An Afternoon at the Tarlak Grounds

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: I, unfortunately, do not speak Kardasi. Elim, Tolan, and Mila are speaking a service class dialect that's based mostly on the Kardasi from Vyc & Tinsnip's English-Kardasi Dictionary and Tumblr page. Honge are from Andy Robinson's A Stitch in Time. Mekla shrubs and leya fruit are from Una McCormack's The Never-Ending Sacrifice. Differences are because Elim, Tolan, and Mila are speaking a service class dialect; errors are my own. 
> 
> Thanks to Gamtana'talan for his comments and suggestions!
> 
> Additional notes are at the end.

The ja'kerreth'kut obelisk commemorating the victory of the Second and Seventh Battalions of the First Order at the Second Battle of Jora'al gleamed in the sunlight. Its sharp angularity was intact, marred only by a slight softening of its windward edges. Its surface was pristine, marred by not a trace of sand or dust. No stray leaf or petal remained on its surface. Tolan inclined his head in silent approval, and continued on his circuit of the Commemorative Grounds of the Tarlak Sector. He inspected completed work, exchanged a few words with his crew, and ensured everyone was assiduously working despite the searing mid-day heat, before returning to his own work. The ja'kerreth'garI pedestal of the monument to Legate Rokala De'alac was not yet polished, and, thus, did not gleam in the sunlight, but it was clean. The monument itself brilliantly reflected the sun's light, though the stone was partially obscured by embedded sand, dust, and other substances that marred its surfaces. Tolan activated his sonic cleaner and got to work, running the device slowly and steadily over each surface.

“Tolan!” a voice called to him over the cleaner's hissing roar. Tolan deactivated the device and turned to see Mila standing behind him.

“I would speak with you, if you have a moment,” Mila requested.

“Of course, but one moment is about all I have.” An unseasonable windstorm three days ago had left Tolan and his crew behind schedule. They had finished cleaning up the debris, but now less than two days remained in which to finish the scheduled maintenance of the Grounds and the preparations for the upcoming memorial service for the late Legate Rohika Zelan.

“I need you to take Elim with you today, after lunch,” Mila said bluntly. “Tain is having one of his dinners tonight, and I cannot take Elim this time.”

“I see.” Mila's young son had recently attended one of Enabran Tain's dinners. It had not gone well for the boy. He had not yet grown out of his childish tendency to act – and speak – without thought as to the consequences of his actions, and Mila's employer was not known for his patience with those who offended him, whether or not the offense was intentional. Nor was he known for moderation in his punishments of those whose discipline came within his purview – which included Mila and her son, as well as Tolan.

Tolan was fond of Mila's child. He had no children of his own, and he was more than willing to be “yadik” to him for as long as that fiction was to be maintained. Certainly he agreed that it would be best for Elim to not attend Tain's dinner. Yet he could not leave his work unfinished to watch the child. “The memorial for Legate Zelan is two days hence. The windstorm three days ago was rather severe, and my crew is already behind schedule.”

“Elim is a good worker. He will help you, if you let him know what he is to do.”

Tolan raised his eye-ridges. Elim had not yet finished his second course of formal schooling. He was much too young to be apprenticed!

“He is capable of doing more than a few simple chores around the house, Tolan.”

Tolan looked over the Grounds. Much work remained, but his crew was efficient, and he had the morrow to finish what was not finished on the present day. “Very well. You may bring him here after lunch, but he should have something to occupy his time while he is not working.”

“He will bring his school-bag and his books. Thank you, Tolan.”

“Nu perrik'I, Mila.”

Mila inclined her head in a grateful bow and took her leave, leaving Tolan to return to his duties.

*** * ***

Elim took a bite of the leya fruit. It was a good fruit. It was perfectly ripe and very sweet. He took another bite. A big drop of yellow-orange juice dripped right on his sleeve! He scowled at the fruit and put it back in his bowl. Then he picked up a napkin and wiped his sleeve.

“Elim, Tain is having one of his dinners tonight.” He should listen to what Ad' was saying, but now there was a splotch of yellow-orange juice on his napkin, and the one on his sleeve was still there!

“Elim!”

He looked up. She was frowning at him. “I'm sorry! I'm trying to get it off!” He scrubbed at his sleeve.

“You can wash your shirt after lunch. Elim, tell me what I said to you.”

“You can wash –”

“Before that. About this evening.”

“I don't know, but there's juice on my sleeve and I can't get it off!”

“I said Tain has a dinner this evening. I need to prepare, so you will go with Tolan to the Commemorative Grounds in the Tarlak Sector this afternoon.”

“I don't go with Yad' to the Commemorative Grounds,” Elim corrected her. “I go with him to the gardens, and sometimes I walk with him to school.”

“Today will be different. Today, you will go with Tolan to the Tarlak Grounds.”

Elim scrubbed harder. The juice still wouldn't come off! “I can't –”

“Yes, Elim. You can.”

“No! I _can't_!”

Mila made a sound. It was the sound that meant she was … angry. Or annoyed. Probably it meant she was annoyed. If she was angry, she would yell or take away his books. She wasn't taking away his books or yelling, so probably she was annoyed. _He_ was annoyed too. The juice still wouldn't come out, no matter how hard he scrubbed at it!

“And why not?” Mila asked.

  
“I don't know! I'm trying! But it's … it's …it's not working!”

“Elim, you can wash your shirt after lunch. The juice will come out with water and soap. But I was asking about going with Tolan. Why are you saying you can't go with him?”

“Because it's much too late! Yad' and Ja'ad'jucem Enabran both say punctuality is imperative, and _Yad'_ went to work before sunrise! I don't want to be late!”

“You won't be late, Elim. You're going to go with Tolan _after_ lunch, and you haven't finished your lunch yet. Finish your lunch, and you'll be in plenty of time.”

Elim turned back to his leya fruit. He did not like leya fruit. It was too drippy. He picked it up anyway, but he held it right over his bowl so it would only drip there. He took a bite of the messy fruit. This time it dripped in his bowl. That was … a _little_ better. But it was still too drippy.

“Thank you, Elim. When you are finished, wash up and pack your schoolbag. I need to clean up the kitchen, and then I will walk with you to the Tarlak Grounds.”

* * *

After lunch, Elim washed the juice from his sleeve. Ad' was correct – it did come out with soap and water. He hung the shirt to dry and went to his room to pack his schoolbag. He put in his padd, a reader, the data rods for his schoolbooks and assignments, and the parcel with his last seven sheets of real paper.

“Elim! It's time to go!”

“But I'm not ready!” Elim protested.

“Elim!” Ad' called again.

 _Oh. She didn't hear me,_ Elim realized. _I was supposed to use a loud voice, because she was in a different room._

Elim took a stylus and a jar of black ink from his shelf and placed them carefully in the bag.

Ad' stepped inside. “Elim, it's time to go. I cannot be late for work. Do you have everything you need?”

“No! I need my books! I only have school-books!”

“All right, but choose quickly.”

Elim selected two books – a real book about flowering plants Yadik gave him _,_ and a datarod collection of stories for children by Loha'el Kovika. He put the books in his bag, fastened it shut, and picked it up. “I have everything I need.”

“Good. Let's go.”

It was much too bright outside. Elim squinted his eyes until they were almost closed, but just open enough he could still see Ad _'_ and the street, until they got to the busy part of the street and Ad' told him to open his eyes properly so he wouldn't bump into anyone. She led the way through the crowded streets all the way to the Commemorative Grounds of the Tarlak Sector. She pushed the gate open, and Elim followed her inside.

It was much nicer inside the Tarlak Grounds. There was much more room to move, no crowds of noisy people moving too close and bumping into him, no noisy skimmers roaring past. Just the sounds of Yadik's crew talking to each other, and the quiet sounds of cleaning-rags wiping the monuments clean and making them shine in the sun.

*** * ***

Mila shut the gate behind them and looked around. At first she didn't see Tolan, but one of his crewmen, seeing her, gestured to the far side of the Grounds, where Tolan stood, partially obscured by the dark stone monument he was working on. She inclined her head in gratitude. “There he is,” she told Elim, gesturing. She turned and led the way up the flagstone path.

“Tolan!” she called as she and Elim approached.

He looked up and smiled. “Mila! Elim! Welcome!”

Mila inclined her head politely. She nudged Elim, and repeated the gesture.

Elim imitated the gesture.

“Now, sit here and finish your schoolwork, Elim,” Mila told him, gesturing toward a nearby monument. “I must speak with Tolan.”

“What?!” Elim sounded completely shocked. “This is _not_ a place for schoolwork! Schoolwork is for school-tables and kitchen-tables and … and... and there's no _table_ here at all!”

Mila sighed. Of course it was too much to ask that her child simply do what he was told. “Elim. Calm down,” she said, keeping her voice gentle. “Right now, the place for school-work is right there, at the base of that monument.”

“No! I can't do my schoolwork _there!_ ” Elim protested. “It's … it's too _bright!_ And there's no table! And I can't work there!”

“Elim. It's time to get to work. _Now,”_ Mila said in the voice that meant he was to stop whatever he was doing and obey. Immediately.

Elim stopped talking, but tears filled his eyes and his mouth started trembling.

Mila scowled. Elim was much too old for such behavior. Tain would never tolerate it, were he to find out, which he certainly would. “Elim. Stop,” Mila said, trying to keep her voice quiet but firm.

A look of horror flashed across Elim's face, and he quickly wiped his eyes and tried to put on a calm expression.

Mila dipped her head briefly, acknowledging his effort.

“The child has a point, Mila,” Tolan interjected, slowly and with exaggerated calmness. “It is quite bright there, where the light reflects off the white stone. Elim, do you see the monument to the Seventh Battalion of the Sixth Order? The dark-colored monument over there?”

Elim looked in the direction Tolan indicated. After a moment, he dipped his head in affirmation.

“The sun does not reflect so brightly off the dark stone. Also, its pedestal can function as a table. You can do your schoolwork there, Elim.”

Elim looked at the monument suspiciously for a long moment. Finally, he looked at Tolan and inclined his head. “I can do my school-work there,” he agreed hesitantly.

“Good. Now, go!”

Elim picked up his schoolbag and ran to the monument. He sat in its shadow and took out a real book. Looking closer, Mila noticed it was the book Tolan had given him in honor of the completion of his first year of formal schooling. It was a book intended for dedicated students of botany and horticulture, not for young children, but Elim seemed to enjoy the pictures, and he already knew the names of most of the plants depicted within the book. It would certainly keep him occupied for some time.

“Thank you, Tolan,” Mila said quietly.

“Tasdarm'I,” Tolan replied with a slight bow. “Go to your work, now, nr'ad'perat'linik. Elim will be fine.”

Mila masked her horror at Tolan's use of that term in public, and glanced at her son. Elim seemed to be entirely engrossed in his book. It was _not_ his school-work, but she would not comment on that. At least he was keeping himself occupied, and allowing Tolan to complete his work.

Mila took her leave and hurried back to the house to begin the necessary preparations for Tain's dinner.

*** * ***

“ _Come on, Oluj'na! Faster!” Goran yelled over the whistling desert wind. The_

_h'zem't'zika cocked his ears back and put on an extra burst of speed._

_He was closing in on Tovika and his h'zem't'zika, Per'vak._

“ _Oluj'na, faster!”_

“Elim, put down your book. We have work to do,” Tolan said.

“Yes. I'm almost ready.” Elim turned back to his book. He wanted to see if Goran and Oluj'na finally beat Tovika and Per'vak. They were so close!

“Elim.” Tolan's voice sounded … different.

Elim looked up.

Tolan was frowning. “Elim, service is an honor. Service to the family, and service to the State – it is an _honor._ There is no honor in shirking one's duties.”

“I'm not shirking. I'm _reading._ ”

“Reading, except for assigned school-work, is a leisure activity. Work must precede leisure.”

Elim frowned. _That's what Tain says._ “But I'm almost finished!”

“Your story will be the better for having it to look forward to. Now, put away your device.”

Reluctantly, Elim put the reader in his bag. “It's away,” he announced.

Tolan inclined his head, just as if Elim were a grown adult. “Excellent,” he said. “Now, let's go get our supplies.”

*** * ***

Tolan replaced the sonic cleaner in its place within the shed, took out a polishing kit, and turned to hand it to Elim.

The child was not standing at the door, waiting.

Frowning, Tolan looked out the door.

Elim stood nearby, staring at the shed as if it were a swad of hungry honge, circling overhead.

Well. It was not Tolan's place to criticize his superiors, but Tain's current method of punishment was clearly doing the boy no good.

“Elim. Come here.”

Elim glanced from him to the door and back again. He backed away.

Tolan stepped outside and seated himself comfortably on a flagstone several strides away from the shed door. He looked out over the grounds. “The mekla hedges are growing strongly this season,” he announced. “They will bloom soon. After they are finished blooming, it will be time to prune, or they will take over the grounds.”

“I can prune,” Elim offered, without taking a step closer.

Tolan smiled. “I appreciate that, Elim. Today, though, we have a different task. My crew and I, we have cleaned every one of the monuments within these Commemorative Grounds. My crew is working hard to polish them. You and I will help.”

Elim dipped his head in acknowledgment and glanced at the polishing kit.

“You will need a polishing kit as well, Elim,” Tolan said. “I will show you where they are. Do you want to get it by yourself, or shall I accompany you?”

“You don't want to go inside there,” Elim muttered.

Tolan blinked. Elim hadn't confused first- and second-person pronouns since the summer before he began his formal schooling. He certainly should not be confusing them now.

“Elim. Come here.” Tolan wasn't surprised when the child instead backed further away.

“Right _here_ ,” Tolan clarified, indicating the flagstone on which he stood.

Reluctantly, Elim approached.

Tolan turned from the shed and sat on the flagstone, tapping it so the child would join him.

Elim didn't respond.

“Elim. Have a seat.”

The boy sat several strides away from the flagstone, facing the shed.

“You seemed to be enjoying the story you were reading earlier. Could you tell me about it?”

Elim inclined his head hesitantly.

Tolan waited.

“It's … it's about a boy named Goran and his h'zem't'zika, Oluj'na.”

Tolan waited.

“ Oluj'na loves to run, but he doesn't love to run when it's too hot. One day in the summer he was supposed to be running, because they were having a race, but they were right by Lake Masad, and Oluj'na ran right into the water, and Goran didn't get mad at all because he thought it was funny, and because he was hot too, and he liked the water. But they didn't win the race that time. Tovika and his h'zem't'zika, Per'vak, they won. They always win. And Goran wants a turn to win. And I don't know if he will win, because that's where I stopped reading.”

Tolan inclined his head. “Thank you, Elim. I can tell Oluj'na is quite intelligent, with strong survival instincts. Do you think he and Goran will win their next race?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, after your work is done, you may return to your story and find out if they win their race. Will you tell me what happens?”

Elim nodded solemnly.

“Thank you. And now it is time to get to work.” Tolan stood and gestured for Elim to do so as well.

“The polishing kits are on the second shelf to the right. You can reach it in about … five of your steps. I will hold the door open. Are you ready to go get your kit?”

Elim didn't answer. He looked as if he were about ready to run in the opposite direction.

“Elim.” Tolan waited until the boy glanced at him. “A disciplined mind can accomplish anything. Tell your mind to focus on the polishing kit. Nothing else. Just the polishing kit. Can you do that?”

Elim narrowed his eyes and stared intently at Tolan's polishing kit.

“Good. Now, look inside the shed. Do you see the polishing kits on the second shelf? They're in the brown and gold cases, with gold lettering, like this.” Tolan gestured towards his own kit.

Elim peered inside the shed and briefly inclined his head.

“Now, all you need to do is take about five steps inside, grab your kit, turn around, and come back outside. You can do this. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Yadik _.”_ Elim's voice was barely audible, but his expression was determined.

“Good. Now, go get your kit.”

Elim darted inside, grabbed a kit, and raced back outside, stopping well away from the shed to catch his breath.

Tolan shut the door, picked up his own kit, and went to join him. “You did well, cestUllinik.”

Elim looked at him, both eye-ridges raised incredulously.

Tolan smiled. “You did your duty, did you not?”

“I … yes.”

“And that is what matters. Now, watch.” Tolan opened his kit and took out a cloth and a jar of polish. He demonstrated how to dip the cloth into the polish and rub it into the stone until it gleamed. “Now, it is your turn.”

Elim opened the kit, took out a rag, and opened the jar. He sniffed the polish suspiciously, grimaced, and backed away.

Tolan frowned. “Elim. Take the polish.”

“It smells bad.”

“I am aware of that. It is not a perfume; it is a polish. The smell is irrelevant. Our duty, the polishing of the monuments, is what is relevant. Now. Exhale, apply the polish, step away from the jar, and then inhale. The odor will be less strong.”

With obvious reluctance, Elim complied.

“Good. Now, you may finish this side. I'll take the adjacent one.” Tolan got to work, surreptitiously watching Elim's progress.

Elim kept his distance from his jar of polish except when he needed to replenish the polish on his cloth, but he worked assiduously until the work was complete.

Tolan inspected the monument, exaggerating the time and effort necessary to do so. Solemnly, he looked at the boy. “We have done work worthy of the Commemorative Grounds, and worthy of Cardassia,” he pronounced. “Now, take your supplies.”

Elim did so, and Tolan led the way back to the monument to the Seventh Battalion of the Sixth Order. “Elim, it is your duty to polish this monument,” he pronounced.

Elim stared at him with wide eyes.

“Get to work,” Tolan chided gently.

Elim blinked. “Yes, Yadik. _”_ He replenished the polish on his cloth and got to work.

Tolan watched for a moment. The child worked assiduously, focused entirely on his task. His hands were steady, and his work methodical. He was squinting against the somewhat brighter light on the far side of the monument, but accepting the discomfort without a word of complaint.

Tolan inclined his head towards the boy, though he knew Elim wouldn't notice.

Mila was correct. Her child was a good worker, even faced with an unfamiliar task. He simply required guidance. Perhaps that was to be expected, at his age. Proper guidance and the opportunity to serve Cardassia with humble work would do him good, regardless of the path he might later be required to follow. Tolan suspected Elim would be sent to an Institute once he reached the age of emergence.

In the meantime, though he was young for apprenticeship, he _could_ , as Mila said, do more than basic academics and simple household chores. It was _his_ duty, Tolan realized, to educate Elim as if he truly were the boy's yadik _,_ and Elim his cestUllin. Mila or Tain might object to some of what he might teach, but, so long as they wished him to maintain that fiction, they were unlikely to stop him from working with the boy – certainly not while he was teaching something so essential as the virtue of assiduous service.

Tolan took up his own jar and cloth, and selected the ja'kerreth'garI monument to the Third Order, one near the monument to the Seventh Battalion of the Sixth Order. He returned to his work, surreptitiously watching the child as he worked. It was imperative that he work assiduously, not only to ensure that all necessary preparations were completed prior to the late Legate's memorial service, but also to demonstrate the appropriate attitude toward one's honored duty, for Family and for Cardassia.

**Author's Note:**

> yadik: Father  
> yad' Dad, Daddy  
> adik: Mother  
> ad' Mom, Mommy
> 
> Nu perrik'I. You're welcome (it is my duty)  
> Tasdarm'I No debt is owed
> 
> nr'ad'perat: younger sibling  
> nr'ad'penet: older sibling  
> cestUllinik my valued child  
> cestUllik'nad'perat child of one's younger sibling  
> ja'ad'jucem uncle (parental/familial friend, marked for respect)  
> tazi hound  
> h'zem't'zika riding hound (large, loyal hound)  
> ja'kerreth stone (stone for carving monuments, tombs, etc.)  
> ja'kerreth'garI white-stone (Kobheerian marble)  
> ja'kerreth'kut dark-stone (a dark granite)


End file.
